


Unboxing Day

by marryfuckkillhanniballecter



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, basically all the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:48:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5731687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryfuckkillhanniballecter/pseuds/marryfuckkillhanniballecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas at the Graham-Lecter's (:</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unboxing Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very, very late Hannigram Holiday Exchange fic. Still, happy holidays, everyone (: Hope you all like it!

 

 

> _December 25th, 2020_
> 
> _Hey, Abigail._
> 
> _I know I was told to let go but… It’s Christmas, and we miss you…_
> 
>  

As Will poked his head with a pen, lost in thought, Hannibal gave him a confused look, but soon went back to measuring the temperature of the broth.

It was Christmas Day, and so far away. At last, the peace of mind only the countryside guaranteed was theirs to enjoy. Maybe too much peace, which drove Hannibal a bit sanguine sometimes, but Will could turn a blind-eye once or twice and not ask why the reindeer meat suddenly tastes richer. He could even help, if he considered it righteous. Besides, the dogs liked it, even though it was a slight change from the Wolf Trap landscape. The wintery pines along the plane and a vast dark lake nearby were familiar. Their house, on the other hand, was vastly different from what both men were used to, but only separately. The simple wooden cabin kindled a warm red glow on the trees. There was a constant fume dancing out the chimney. On the inside, a combination of heavy yet refined oak furniture with brushed steel decoration. There was no need for a Graham-Lecter mailbox outside; it was clear who the inhabitants were.

The degrees were just turning negative, and as Will warmed himself with a cup of hot wine, he looked through the window.

“Fucking global warming.” He scoffed, while he climbed down from his seat to arrange Buster’s Christmas hat.

Hannibal eyed him, startled, and gave the smallest smile.

“No snow yet?”

Will patted the dog’s head and off he went. He straightened his clothes, sat and turned to Hannibal, quietly annoyed.

“Not a flake in sight… Why did we even move here if we can’t get snow 11 months a year?”

“We are murderers on the run…” he trailed, as he was interrupted by an narrow eyed Will. “Besides, you chose to come to Finland.”

“I know, I don’t regret it. It’s just… Even people here complain… Well, you can’t really say complain, but they state the winter has been the warmest yet, and it’s all clouds and rain and this should’ve ended on October. It’s Santa Claus land, for fuck’s sake…”  

“Come here, Bonnie.” Hannibal invited, with a warm look on his eyes and stretched arms.

Will left his unfinished letter. He walked around the countertop and as he stretched his arms toward his husband, Hannibal picked up plates and cutlery from a drawer and handed them to him.

“Set the table, will you?” Hannibal said, as he gave him a tooth-past commercial grin.

Certainly not amused, Will turned around and meant for the dining room, as Hannibal stopped him by resting his head on his shoulder and rubbing his arms gently.

“It will come. No need to be grumpy Willy about it.” He kissed him there and got back to cooking what smelled like delicious salmon soup.

“And I’m Clyde, by the way!” Will said aloud from the corridor, smiling.

To which Hannibal replied under his breath, “Sure…”

The younger man headed for the dining table on the other room. He put the plates, glasses, forks, knives and spoons in place, and just then, noticed there was an extra set of tableware. Just as he was walking out to ask Hannibal about it, he came in with a steamy bowel on his oven-gloved hands, the spicy smell flowing beyond him and hugging the dining room. He rushed past him to get a bottle of wine and came back to see Hannibal sitting on his usual seat and two other places on the other side of the table. Wil set the bottle on the table and sat in front of Hannibal, visibly confused. They served themselves and ate quietly for a mouthful.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Will started, “but why are we having soup?”

“Well, you said it was bad luck eating human meat during the holidays because people are so very backwards…” Hannibal replied while putting the spoon to his mouth and smiling with his eyes.

“I know, but…”

The older man set his spoon aside and answered. “I wanted to give you some edible closure, Will.”

“What about the extra place?” He asked, while scratching his nose and avoiding Hannibal’s eyes.

Hannibal reached out to his husband’s hand and caressed his knuckles.

“You know I used to put an extra place for Mischa during meals for a long time. Christmas was no different.”

“But the galas, operas, beneficial performances of Nutcracker?” Will sipped his wine, still not looking up.

Hannibal held tighter and searched for his wandering eyes. “Those people were not family, Will. You are. And while I do not need this any longer, I thought you might appreciate the gesture.”

Will gave a heavy sigh, looked his beloved in the eyes and smiled. “Thank you, handsome.”

“Looks like I have outdone myself to deserve such a distinct compliment.” The other man stated, raising his glass.

“Don’t spoil it.” He mocked annoyance, and then giggled a little, receiving a wide grin from his Hannibal.

Later that evening, the couple of humans and dogs rested by the warm fire. Winston chewed on his bony gift, while Buster snoozed happily on his back. Hannibal and Will sat on the couch in front of the television. The younger man lounged with his back to the armrest with his feet on the other’s lap while trying to figure out the Finnish word he knew on the fishing magazine. Hannibal paid close attention to MasterChef. Distracted, Will looked to the television and then to his husband.

“But… don’t you miss them?” He put his glasses on the top of his head and scratched his eyes.

“Who?”

“You know, Bedelia, Alana, the rich folk…”

Hannibal pondered. “I do miss Bedelia sometimes. However, I believe our last visit has made her forever close to our hearts.”

“You are terrible.” Will held his laughter as best as he could.

“I go by Il Mostro for a reason…”

Both burst out laughing with each other, Will drying tears from his eyes and Hannibal giving a slight nod to show his gratitude for such an awful joke. They caught their breaths, and a few minutes later, Hannibal muttered. 

“And Abigail…”

Will put his glasses back in place and glared. “Then why the fuck…” He took a deep breath, “You know what? I’m not having this conversation again. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize…” 

The older man looked deep into his eyes, seeking forgiveness. Again, the other gave a deep sigh, and went back to reading his article about salmon and whatnot. A good half an hour later, Hannibal tried to break the ice.

“Could you please explain to me why Antti is still on the show?” He asked, displeased, with miniature eye-roll on his face.

Will looked briefly from his tablet, arched an eyebrow and back.

“He’s cute…”

“Will, please. He forgot to get tomatoes for tomato soup. And he chose to do it.”

“Come on, you can get away with cooking people because you’re cute, let him forget the damn tomatoes.

Hannibal narrowed his eyes to him, to which Will gave a toothy goofy grin. The older man laughed soundly, resting his head on the back of the couch and massaged his husband’s leg. Will smiled fondly.

Over an hour on, the aspiring chefs were all lined up to get their final test results. Will set the tablet aside to pay attention.

“How are these people so beautiful and so white? This is Trump’s heaven…” 

Not hearing a remark from Hannibal, he looked up to see him peacefully asleep. He admired his husband’s face, so calm, probably dreaming of butchering that bus driver who splashed water on his topcoat. He got up and sat beside him. After cleaning a slight drool from his mouth, he caressed his cheek and called him quietly.

“Honey…”

As an answer, he got an annoyed rumble. Will got the remote from the table in front of him and turned off the tv.

A bit louder, he called again, “Hannibal!”

He opened one eye. “What? Why did you turn it off? I was watching that.”

“Sure.”

Will smiled and extended him a hand, which he took and got up. Hannibal kissed his cheek and ruffled the curls on his hair. The other had his arm around his husband’s waist, and together they walked towards the bedroom.

 

> _December 26 th 2020_
> 
> _It is Boxing Day, my dear. Although I have just woken up, I felt the need to share this with you. Do you remember I used to save your place on the table? I did it for Will this time. He misses Abigail… Perhaps our lives have come to such comfortable balance, even if in hiding, that he began to ponder on what else is there… At least he has not had any more sleep disturbances. I have made my most delightful task to tire him so he would have a restful sleep. Should I have not mentioned that? No, no problem there. You would be… Surprisingly, I do not remember how old you would be… When have I stopped celebrating your birthday? I hope you do not mind, you know you have not been forgotten…_
> 
>  

Hannibal closed his journal and got up on a start. He fished his phone from the bedside table and put on his shoes. 7:35 AM, it was still dark outside. He didn’t have much time before Will woke up. He dressed on simple running clothes and rushed to the kitchen to get some juice. On the table, he found Will’s unfinished letter. He read it while taking big gulps, putting it back on the sink and the letter in place. Seconds later, he started the car and went into the morning night.

Will woke to the sound of barking dogs downstairs. He padded his side to no Hannibal and asked himself why he would be up that early, given their alarm would go off at 8. As he hid his eyes with his arm, the dogs barked louder, now just outside the door.

“Coming!”

He was soon at the door, careful not to let Winston and Buster inside. He crouched to say a proper good morning to his pack.

“He didn’t mention where he was off to, right?” He looked at them quizzically, and they back to him. “Figured. Who’s hungry?”

He got up and clapped to the dogs’ excitement. Soon after he filled their bowels with food and water, he went back upstairs to dress up and go with them for a stroll, just then realizing the sun was coming up and there was snow on the ground.

“Look who finally decided to show up, huh?” He gave a warm smile.

A long while later, Will was playing fetch with Winston and Buster by the lake near their home as Hannibal rode back to their lawn. The three of them had their ears perked, waiting. The other man walked out of the car, and went to the passenger’s door. Coming around, Will could see he was caring a big cardboard box without the lid and a big smile.

“Good morning!” Hannibal said aloud, before standing in front of Will and looking inside the box. “Say hello to daddy number two.”

“What…” Will peered into the box and was greeted by a sloppy lick only a puppy could give.

“Will, say hello to Abigail.” He couldn’t contain his excitement.

Will looked from the puppy to Hannibal, back to the puppy and back to Hannibal. He grabbed his neck and kissed his beloved full on the lips. Then, as they smiled to each other, he reached into the box and pulled out an auburn-haired 99% dachshund 1% no one would ever know stray.

As he hugged her, he caressed her head. “Hey, Abigail!”


End file.
